My Liza
by Vol lady
Summary: Grab the tissue, but not because this is a sad story. It's a story about reunion and finding someone you thought was lost forever. FYI, Liza is loosely based on a real woman who lived in Sharpsburg, Maryland in 1862.
1. Chapter 1

My Liza

Chapter 1

"I picked this up in town for you."

Nick handed the letter out to his older brother, who was working at the desk in the library. Jarrod was a bit surprised. He didn't get much personal mail, and the professional mail he got usually came to the office. Jarrod took the letter and looked at the postmark. New Orleans. He didn't know anyone in New Orleans.

Nick headed for the whiskey while Jarrod opened the letter. Jarrod read silently, but Nick could tell by the way he straightened that this was not just a newsy hello letter.

Jarrod read –

 _Dear Jarrod –_

 _Please do not throw this letter away without reading it. It is very important._

 _I have been performing at various venues in the South – where you said I belong. I have made a very successful career for myself, so much so that I can afford my own dresser. I have hired a negro woman named Liza Bowman. She's been working for me for more than a year, but she has only begun to tell me about her past._

 _She is about our age, born a slave on a plantation near Danville, Virginia. When she was only ten years old, she was sold away as a house servant to a man in Maryland. She has told me what she remembers about her life in Virginia, and as she told me, I pressed her for more._

 _She remembers her mother and father were named Belinda and Silas. Jarrod, when she told me her father's name, I immediately thought of your houseman. It's not just the name. I know I only saw your houseman very briefly when I was there, but I remember his eyes. Liza's eyes remind me of his._

 _I've told Liza about your houseman, and she is curious, but cautious. We have talked and she's told me about some other things from the time before she was taken from her family. She remembers two younger brothers but doesn't remember their names. She remembers she worked in the house with her parents, mostly as a servant for the master's daughter. She remembers she used to sing and dance for the master's family. She remembers that once she got too close to the fireplace and suffered a burn on her left arm. She has a scar right about where you have that scar on your left forearm, only hers is on the inside of the arm. She also has a scar on her upper back, from where the master's daughter hit her for some reason she can't remember._

 _Jarrod, this is so important. Please get back to me as soon as you can. If your Silas is my Liza's father, reuniting them would be the most wonderful thing that could happen. Please talk to Silas, and either write or wire me, care of the Bourbon Street Theatre in New Orleans. I will be here for at least one more month._

 _With love, Julia_

Jarrod stood up, still reading the letter. Then he just stood there, looking away, digesting what it said. Nick took a swig of his whiskey and looked Jarrod's way. He saw the look in his older brother's eyes that told him he was thinking hard about what he'd just read.

"What is it?" Nick asked.

Jarrod looked up at Nick and held the letter out to him. "Take a look at this."

Nick took the letter and began to read. Jarrod came out from behind the desk and walked slowly toward the fireplace. He rested his arm on the mantle, still thinking.

Nick finished reading and looked almost as shocked as Jarrod felt. Nick came over to him. "What do you make of this?" Nick asked and handed the letter back.

Jarrod took it. "I don't know. My first thought is to run and find Silas, but my second thought says to speak to Mother first. I've never talked to Silas about his family. Have you?"

"No," Nick said. "I don't know if Mother has talked to him much about it, either. Father, maybe, but I don't know about Mother."

"Do you know where she is?"

"Helping Silas with dinner."

Jarrod made a face. He didn't want Silas to know about this, not yet anyway.

"I'll go get her," Nick said, "tell her you need to see her about something."

"Yeah," Jarrod said as Nick went out. Then he read the letter again.

If this woman were Silas's daughter – my God, after all these years, to have his daughter find him. Jarrod was only ten years old when Silas came to them, so Jarrod knew for a fact he hadn't seen any of his family for more than twenty-five years. To think that by some twist of fate, Julia Saxon had come across Silas's lost daughter - it was beyond belief.

Victoria came in with Nick right behind her. "Did you need me for something, Jarrod?" she asked right away.

Jarrod gave her the letter, saying, "Read this, Mother."

He and Nick waited while she read, and when she sank into the sofa while she was still reading, the men looked at each other. Nick went to the refreshment table, lifted the bottle of scotch for Jarrod to see – a silent question: do you want a drink? Jarrod nodded.

Nick poured and brought Jarrod the glass. Jarrod nodded his thanks and sat down in the armchair across from the sofa, while Nick poured himself another drink.

Victoria looked up. "This is unbelievable."

"I know," Jarrod said. "Do you know if it's got any truth to it?"

Victoria shook her head. "Your father knew Silas's background, but I never did. As the years went by, it just seemed less and less important. I think you should talk to Silas about this, Jarrod."

"Alone?" Jarrod asked.

Victoria nodded. "I don't think he'd be comfortable talking about his past with all of us around him, and he wouldn't be comfortable talking to me at all. It's for men to talk about." She passed the letter back to Jarrod.

"The sooner, the better, I'd say," Nick said.

"Why don't I take over making dinner, Jarrod?" Victoria said. "Take Silas aside somewhere now, talk to him. Decide between the two of you what you think you should do."

Jarrod got up as his mother did, nodding, downing his scotch and leaving the glass on the coffee table. Without further words Victoria and Jarrod went into the kitchen. Silas was cutting vegetables up at the table. He looked up when they came in.

Jarrod said, "Silas, I'd like a minute with you. Mother will take over here for a bit."

"Of course, Mr. Jarrod," Silas said, but he looked nervous. He hadn't heard words like that since long before Tom Barkley died. Silas was worried he had done something wrong.

But Jarrod led him out the back door, saying, "Nothing's wrong, Silas. I just need to talk to you for a minute."

They stepped outside, on to the back veranda, and stood there together. Jarrod wondered how he was going to approach this subject without sounding like he was doing a cross examination of a witness.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Jarrod?" Silas asked.

"Trust me on this for a minute, Silas," Jarrod ended up saying. "I know what I'm about to ask you is very private and probably very difficult, but just believe me, it's very important. I need to ask you some things about your personal history."

Silas looked even more uncomfortable.

Jarrod said, "Please believe me, old friend, this may be tough for you but it may be well worth it. When you were a slave, you were married, weren't you?"

"Not like white folks were married, but yes, I had a wife," Silas said.

"What was her name?"

Silas swallowed. It still hurt to talk about this. "Belinda. Her name was Belinda."

"And children?"

"Three – a daughter and then two sons."

Jarrod felt his pulse getting faster. "What was your daughter's name?"

Silas smiled. "Liza."

"She'd be about my age, wouldn't she?" Jarrod asked.

"Why, yes, she would."

"Silas, what happened to her?"

Silas swallowed again and for a moment started to cry. But he got himself together and said, "She was sold away, up to Maryland."

"You were in Virginia."

"Yes, sir, near Danville."

Jarrod found himself swallowing. He felt like he was going to cry, totally involuntarily. A couple more questions and he might know the truth. "Silas, how old was she when she was sold?"

"About nine or ten. Mr. Jarrod, what is this about?"

"Just a couple more questions, Silas. Did she have any scars you know of, from injuries?"

"Yes, sir. She had a burn mark on her arm, near where you have yours. And she had a cut mark on her back."

Jarrod felt like laughing and crying at the same time. He grabbed Silas by the shoulders, unable to help himself.

"Mr. Jarrod, what is this about?" Silas asked again.

"Silas – do you remember Julia Saxon?"

"That woman who got you beat up so bad? Yes, sir, I remember." Silas was noticeably mad about that.

Jarrod smiled. "Silas, my old friend, she just sent me a letter about a negro woman who works for her. Silas, I'm pretty sure this woman is your daughter Liza."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"No, Mr. Jarrod, that can't be," Silas said, his mouth staying open after he had said the words.

"It can be, Silas," Jarrod said. "Miss Saxon described the woman who works for you exactly as you just described her, and this woman – her name is Liza Bowman – she says her parents were named Belinda and Silas."

Silas began to shake, and all he could say was, "Oh – oh."

Jarrod bundled Silas back into the house and sat him down at the kitchen table. Victoria stopped what she was doing and quickly sat beside him, putting her arms around him. Jarrod said, "I think we've found Silas's daughter."

Victoria burst into tears and buried her head into Silas's shoulder. Silas just kept looking up at Jarrod, his face full of astonishment. "My Liza," he started to say quietly. "My Liza."

Jarrod stooped down to eye level with Silas and Victoria. He hadn't discussed what he said next with either of them, but he thought it was appropriate. "She's in New Orleans with Miss Saxon," he said. "I think I need to go there and bring her back here, so you can meet her, so you can be sure."

Victoria looked alarmed for a moment, both at the idea that he would travel so far and that Julia Saxon would be there at the end.

"It's not really safe for Silas to travel in the south alone," Jarrod said. "It's not safe for Liza either. Negroes run into far too much trouble down there if they're traveling, what with the Black Codes and everything else. No one will bother us if I go get Liza and bring her here."

Silas understood. Nobody would bother a white man traveling with what looked like a negro servant, especially a female. Silas nodded.

"When do you want to leave, Jarrod?" Victoria asked.

"Tomorrow," Jarrod said. "I only have some paperwork to do over the next two weeks. I can take it with me and be back before I need to finish it. I'll wire Julia before I catch the train south to meet up with the train to New Orleans."

"Thank you, Mr. Jarrod," Silas said. "I'll know the minute I see her if she's my Liza."

"She's a bit older now, Silas," Jarrod said with a smile.

"It don't matter," Silas said. "I'll know."

XXXXXXX

Nick and Heath had to go into town for supplies the next day, so Jarrod went along with them. All three of them were cautiously excited for Silas – to think he might be meeting his daughter again in a little over a week.

"I can't imagine what it must have been like, to watch your child be taken away from you forever," Nick said, shaking his head.

"All your screaming and crying wouldn't make a bit of difference," Heath said.

"They were treated the way we treat cattle," Jarrod said. "Silas told me a bit more last night. Apparently the man who owned him and his family ran into money trouble and started selling his slaves off, one by one. Over a matter of months, Silas and his wife watched their children be taken away, then Silas watched his wife be taken. Silas only got his freedom because he had broken a leg. Nobody would buy him and his master didn't want to take care of him anymore. At least he gave Silas his papers, but he just threw him out into the world without a cent."

"God, how did he make it?" Nick asked.

"Underground railroad, or whatever they were calling it at the time. Silas knew where to go. Since he had his papers, they didn't have to smuggle him out, and when his leg healed they got him transport out to California, and that's when he met Father. Nick and I were just kids, Heath. I was nine or ten, Nick was five or so. Silas pretty much helped raise us."

"I can't imagine how you ever got along without him," Heath said.

Jarrod said, "While I'm gone, Nick, why don't you think about whether we might want to hire this woman on to help Silas, if she's interested? Silas isn't getting any younger."

"I've been thinking about that already," Nick said. "If she is his daughter, it would be a perfect set up for them, wouldn't it?"

When they got to town, Nick and Heath bid Jarrod good-bye at the telegraph office while they went on to fetch their supplies. Jarrod wired Julia Saxon that it looked like Silas was Liza Bowman's father and that he was on his way to New Orleans, and about an hour later, he was on the train heading south.

He would have preferred taking the family car, but there was no time to arrange for it. As it was, first class was all he could get. Despite being in first class, the trip east was uncomfortable and seemed endless. Jarrod watched the terrain change from the green agricultural fields of California, to the southwestern desert, to the wet lowlands of eastern Texas and Louisiana, and then, finally, New Orleans.

Jarrod had been to New Orleans in his younger days, on the way home from the war. Like any young man, he had stayed a bit longer than he should have, had more fun than he should have, gotten into a little more trouble than he should have. But he smiled when he saw New Orleans again. His memories were sweet.

He found the Bourbon Street Theatre without any trouble, but he came to a stop when he saw the sandwich board out front. There she was, Julia Saxon, as beautiful as she ever was. Age made her even more beautiful than she was when she and Jarrod were young, in their twenties. But –

What had happened in Washington, what had happened with Matt Parker, made Jarrod suddenly pull inside himself. They fell in love in Washington, Jarrod and Julia, and he had thought for that brief shining time that he had found the woman he'd give his heart to forever. But she had suddenly switched to Matt. Jarrod remembered the moment when that happened, when he introduced them. She still professed her love for Jarrod, but she spent more and more time with Matt. Something was wrong.

It was after he transferred to the colored cavalry that Jarrod found out what Julia was all about. Matt was arrested, and who Julia really was came to light. Jarrod remembered how his life changed instantly, how his faith in people burst like a bubble, how he began to hate Julia more than he had ever loved her.

Then, not long ago, she came to Stockton to perform at the Gaiety Theater there, but not really for that reason. She really came to see Jarrod. "I loved you, Jarrod," she had said. "I still love you." But he didn't love her, and a murder charge against her and him being beaten up for representing her, and that was the end of everything.

All of that history zipped through Jarrod's mind as he looked at that sandwich board, and he wondered – was she lying to him again now? Was this business about Liza being Silas's daughter just another lie, just another con? How could it be, but how could he be sure?

"Jarrod – "

Jarrod heard the voice behind him and knew who it had to be. He turned. She was there, as beautiful as ever, but there was no smile for him, just eyes with a plea in them _. I still love you, Jarrod._

Jarrod could not give her anything but a quiet, "Hello, Julia. Did you get my wire that I'd be coming?"

"Yes," she said. "Come on inside. I'll introduce you to Liza."

Julia led him to the stage entrance, around the side of the building in an alley. She pushed a button that rang a bell somewhere inside, and after a minute or so a negro man opened the door for them.

"Thank you, Horace," Julia said. "Do you know where Liza is?"

"In the dressing area, tending to your wardrobe," the old man said.

Jarrod gave him a smile and a nod as Julia led him through the backstage area and to a place where the dressing rooms were. There, in the hall, at an ironing board, a negro woman was pressing a short dress. She looked up, and stopped.

Jarrod took his hat off when he got his first look at the woman. She was so petite, at least a foot shorter than he was and very thin. She was lovely, but he could tell by the lines in her face that life had not been particularly kind to her. Still, she looked at him and suddenly smiled, as shy as a teenager, when Jarrod removed his hat.

Jarrod almost jumped. They were Silas's eyes, Silas's smile.

"Liza, this is Jarrod Barkley, the man I told you about," Julia said. "Jarrod, this is Liza Bowman."

Liza put the iron on its hot plate and wiped her hands on the plain muslin apron she was wearing. Jarrod reached for her hand and took it warmly when she offered it. "Hello, Miss Bowman," Jarrod said.

"Liza, please," Liza said. Then she looked around awkwardly. There was not even a place for Jarrod to sit down.

Julia said, "We can have some privacy in my dressing room. It's small, but it will do."

Julia guided them into the little room where her costumes took up a third of the place. There was a mirror and a make-up table taking up another third, and three chairs took up the rest. Liza seemed to wait for Jarrod to sit down, after Julia sat, but Jarrod motioned for her to sit first, and she did.

So much of this was so awkward to Jarrod – the discomfort with Julia, the inner defensiveness in case this was a con job, the self-recrimination on thinking that it couldn't possibly be a con (how would she have known all that personal information, and for that matter, what would be the point?). Julia broke the ice, though, saying, "Jarrod, I suppose you have a lot of questions."

"Not as many as you might think," Jarrod said, speaking to Liza. "I'm here because I spoke for a long time with Silas, and from the information you sent me, Julia, I think there's a high probability that he is your father, Liza."

Liza immediately began crying, covering her mouth with both hands. Julia reached for her, and Jarrod was surprised to see tears in Julia's eyes. He realized he had never seen her cry before, not even in Washington when he left her. "How do we make that a certainty?" Julia asked, reaching for Liza and taking her hand. "I know you want her to come to California with you, but Liza – do you have reservations about it? I mean, I know that you know that I think very highly of Mr. Barkley. You are perfectly safe with him. He will take very good care of you."

Jarrod looked at Julia's eyes. She wasn't lying about this. He wondered if she would lie about anything to him anymore.

Julia continued, "But the last thing I want is for you to be hurt in any way, Liza. You need to be comfortable with traveling a very long way with Mr. Barkley, and I understand that you might not be comfortable unless you can be more certain that Silas is your father. So, Jarrod – what do we do now to make that come about?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Out of the blue, Liza pushed up the sleeve of her left arm, not exactly a proper thing for a woman to do in the presence of a man, but something that told Jarrod she was in earnest about proving who she was. She showed him the burn scar on her inner arm, saying, "My father will remember how I got this."

"Silas did remember," Jarrod said. "Tell me more about yourself. Do you remember much about being taken away from your family?"

Liza nodded. "I remember my whole family crying and screaming, and I was crying and screaming. And I was so scared. Mr. Bowman took me far, far away."

"Did he – abuse you in any way?"

She shook her head. "No, he didn't, except for beating me once or twice when I misbehaved. I was just a little girl. I'd been playing all my life with the massa's little girl, and I didn't know how to just stop. When I got up to Maryland with Mr. Bowman and started working for him and Mrs. Bowman, I didn't know how to act at first. He hit me a few times."

"Do you know where in Maryland they took you?" Jarrod asked.

"Sharpsburg," Liza said.

Jarrod was startled. "I know it. I was in the battle there and for a while after I was wounded, before they shipped me off to Washington."

Liza shook her head. "It was awful, Mr. Barkley. We lived in town. We had to hide in the cellar while the cannon balls just blew into things. We come out for a little bit when things got quiet, but then the cannon balls started again. I saw a man in the street get hit and just…." She stopped. She couldn't say what she saw.

Jarrod knew. He had seen such things, too. He reached for her hand when she started to cry. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to remember that."

Liza said, "I was twenty then, or thereabouts, I don't really know when I was born. It wasn't all that much later the Bowmans let me go. Another man and his wife who were on the underground railroad got me up to Pennsylvania, and I worked for a colored family up there. We had to run further north when the rebels come into Pennsylvania. Oh, the war was awful, Mr. Barkley."

Jarrod glanced at Julia, who looked away. "Yes, it was," he said. "For everybody."

"Did my papa get hurt in the war?" Liza asked.

"No," Jarrod said. "No, he didn't. He had been set free a lot earlier and came to work for my family in California long before the war started. He's been fine. He's an older man now, of course, but he still works for us, and we couldn't live without him. Liza, have you talked to Miss Julia about coming out to California with me?"

"Yes," Liza said. "I asked if she'd go with me, but she said she can't."

Jarrod and Julia exchanged glances again. "No," Jarrod said. "I understand that she can't."

"But you can trust Mr. Barkley, Liza," Julia said. "And if you get there and think Silas is your father and you think you might want to stay – you're surely free to do that."

"We can address that when we get there, Liza," Jarrod said. "I've arranged to hire a Pullman car for the trip back. Liza, you'll have to sleep in the negro car, but you can spend most of the day in the Pullman with me. You can ride in the Pullman so long as people think you're my servant. I hope you won't mind posing as a servant until we get to California."

"How long will it take?" she asked.

"Several days," Jarrod said. "You don't have to make a decision about anything right this minute, but we do need to leave tomorrow morning."

Liza looked at Julia again. "I think I already made up my mind. I need to know if your Silas is my papa. I'll know when I see him. I'll know."

Jarrod smiled. "He said the same thing, Liza."

XXXXX

It was morning in Stockton while Jarrod was meeting Liza. Silas was cleaning up after breakfast, but his mind was definitely in New Orleans. He knew this was the day Jarrod was scheduled to arrive there.

As he put the dishes away, he thought back on those days in Danville, before his family was sold away from him. He remembered teaching Liza how to dry the dishes after her mother washed them and before Silas put them away. It was beautiful family time, during a time when there was precious little. White people didn't think on negro families the way they thought on their own. They just didn't think negroes could love their children. They didn't think it was in them. But if his massa had just watched a little bit instead of thinking only on his slaves when he checked on them to be sure they were working –

Silas put the thoughts aside. That was a long time ago, and working for the Barkleys was completely different. He smiled to think how each one of the Barkleys would greet him with big smiles when they came home from a trip, as if they actually missed him. And how they took such good care of him that time he got the influenza. And how Mrs. Barkley had hugged him when Mr. Jarrod told him he might have found his Liza.

Heath came into the kitchen to fetch an apple and caught Silas daydreaming. Heath smiled. Everyone in the house knew this was the day Jarrod was arriving in New Orleans. They could only imagine what Silas was feeling.

"Getting nervous there, Silas?" Heath asked with a smile.

Silas hadn't noticed him come in. He laughed, a bit embarrassed. "I guess I am, Mr. Heath. Do you think Mr. Jarrod is with my Liza now?"

"He just might be," Heath said.

"Oh, Mr. Heath, I just can't believe this is all happening. I never thought – " Silas felt his eyes water up.

Heath threw an arm around him. "In just a few days you'll know for sure, Silas. We're all pulling for you."

"Mr. Heath, this is just the finest family in the world – Mr. Jarrod going all the way to New Orleans just for me. I never in my life dreamed so many good things could happen to me."

Heath laughed a little. "I know what you mean, Silas. I feel the same way. I was pretty nervous when I first came here, but these are a fine bunch of people."

"I was pulling for you when you first came, too, Mr. Heath. I knew this was the place for you."

Now Heath thought he might get misty. "You knew before I did, I think. I remember that very first day I worked out on the ranch with Nick. Before we went out, you said to me, 'Stick up for yourself, Mr. Heath. Mr. Nick will like that.' And you were right."

Silas laughed. "You pretty much knew that for yourself already."

Heath smiled. "But I liked that you knew it. I liked that you understood me that fast."

"Aw," Silas said, embarrassed again. "I just knew you were a Barkley."

Heath sat on the edge of the kitchen table. "They say I look a lot like my father."

"Oh, yes, Mr. Heath, you do."

"Tell me about him, Silas. Tell me what you thought of him."

Silas smiled, remembering. "He was a fine man, Mr. Heath. Let me tell you how I met him…."

XXXXXX

Jarrod checked into a hotel for the night, but in the evening he came back to the theatre and watched Julia perform. She seemed much happier here than in Stockton. Her music was more light, less sad, and no one threw any tomatoes at her.

But for Jarrod, watching the performance was very much like it was when he saw her in Stockton. His heart broke, because in his mind he was seeing that girl he fell in love with so long ago, the one who turned out to be anything but what he thought she was. Now he was seeing that woman in Stockton, too, that woman who said, _I loved you, Jarrod. I still love you._ He believed her. Maybe that was why his heart was really breaking as he watched her in New Orleans. Maybe the pain of what happened in Washington was now magnified by what happened in Stockton.

Nevertheless, when she came out between shows, he was still there, and she saw him. He saw that she saw him.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Jarrod stood up when Julia saw him in the theatre and pulled out a chair at his table for her. He had been nursing a scotch and he asked if she wanted a drink but she declined. He sat down again after she sat. "Julia, I don't know how to thank you for putting us in touch with Liza," he said. "If she is Silas's daughter, she'll be the only member of his family he's ever found after all these years." He looked up at Julia then, to see what was in her eyes.

She shook her head and looked away from him. "It's the same for Liza. Taken away from her parents and brothers when she was barely ten years old, never seeing them again."

"Julia," Jarrod said, "maybe you can understand now why it was so difficult for me to accept – " He fumbled for the words. "So difficult for me to love a Confederate spy."

"So difficult that you stopped loving me?" Julia said with an ironic smile. "It's all right, Jarrod. I understand that, maybe even more since I've come to know Liza. The southern slave owners didn't understand their slaves were people and so they didn't treat them that way, and I was helping them to keep doing it. I was too foolish a girl to understand that then. I understand it a lot better now. Maybe – I don't know, maybe I can make up a little bit for what I did, if I can help Liza find her father."

"I'm pretty sure Silas is her father," Jarrod said.

Julia's smile grew more genuine. "I hope so. He's a kind man, and she's a kind woman." Julia breathed a sigh. "So, how have you been, Jarrod?"

"Not bad," Jarrod said with a little smile. "Very busy. My practice is even bigger now."

"I hope your mother is well. She was very kind to me."

"She knew why you were there. She hoped your coming would help me come to terms with what happened between us."

"She knew we were involved during the war?"

"No, but she suspected."

"And have you come to terms with what happened between us?"

Jarrod looked at her and saw that defiance he had seen when she was in jail in Stockton, but he saw it melt, too. "I don't know," he said. "I didn't tell you when you were in Stockton that I had been married."

Julia looked surprised. "No, you didn't."

"I was widowed not long before you came to Stockton," Jarrod said and left the rest of that part of his life alone.

"Oh," Julia said. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea. Why didn't you tell me? No, no – nevermind. I know why you didn't tell me. It was none of my business." She looked more closely at him. "Maybe the real question is, why are you telling me now?"

Jarrod sighed. "I don't know. When you came to Stockton, you said you were there because you hoped I'd understand what happened with you. Maybe I'm telling you now so you'll understand what happened with me, why it was so difficult for me to give you what you were looking for."

Julia gave a big sigh. "Life is a complicated thing, isn't it? We found love because of a horrible war. We lost it for the same reason. Now, in part because of that same war, we might be able to give someone else some happiness."

Jarrod looked at Julia's eyes again. He realized that he had never before seen any compassion for another person in her eyes. She had always been preoccupied with herself, when they were young and when she came to Stockton. But now, there was hope in her eyes, and it was for someone else, for Liza. That look in her eyes made her more beautiful to him that she ever looked before. He smiled.

Julia realized it was the first real smile he had given her since the war, since before he came to know what she really was. In Stockton, he had never smiled once for her, not once. And now his eyes lit up again, so blue and so compelling, more compelling than even the young Army officer ever had been for her. Julia couldn't help but return the smile.

But Jarrod looked away. "I'll need to be going before you finish the next set. The train leaves early tomorrow, about seven thirty. Where shall I meet you and Liza?"

"At the train station," Julia said, mourning the thought he would be going away so soon. "She'll be very nervous, Jarrod."

"I'll put her at ease as much as I can," Jarrod said. "If you can put it off, I think you ought not hire another dresser until Liza is sure of what she wants to do in the future."

"There's a woman who works for the theatre here, a cleaning woman. She'll work for me temporarily, in case Liza wants to come back here."

Jarrod looked up again. "I'm glad we've had this little bit of time together, Julia. The way we left things in Stockton – well, there was a very unfinished air about it."

"Are we finished now?"

Jarrod said, "Maybe not really finished. Maybe we'll never be finished. But maybe I do understand a bit better now what you wanted me to understand. Maybe – maybe it's a bit easier to remember how much in love we were."

Julia smiled a little. "I still love you, Jarrod. I know I always will."

Jarrod actually reached for her hand. "Maybe I can't feel exactly the way I felt all those years ago, but in my own way, in some corner of my heart – there will always be you."

Julia squeezed his hand and got up. "We'll see you at the station in the morning, Jarrod. Good night."

Jarrod watched her leave and disappear through the door to the backstage area. Jarrod finished his scotch and left.

XXXXXXX

The good-byes at the station were brief. "Take care of Liza," Julia asked.

"I will," Jarrod promised.

And that was pretty much it. Jarrod's and Julia's good-bye was very much like their farewell in Stockton, but they both knew it really couldn't be any different. They had shared as many warm moments the night before as they were ever going to share.

The trip to California was long. Jarrod pretended Liza was a servant to him, so he was able to keep her out of the negro car and in his leased Pullman for the most part. It was foolishness he hated, negroes having to ride in a separate car, but a game he could not fight. He was just sorry she was having to sleep in such dreadfully uncomfortable quarters while he had a reasonably comfortable Pullman.

Liza told him, "I'm used to it, Mr. Barkley. Don't worry yourself. Besides, even if I were a white woman, they wouldn't let me be staying in this car with you."

Jarrod sighed. "Probably not, but I'm sorely tempted to give this car to you and keep myself out in first class."

"No, no," Liza said. "Miss Julia and I tried that once and that didn't work either. Negro people belong in the negro car, and that's it."

Jarrod had gotten a pot of coffee, and the negro porter – knowing full well why he wanted them – gave Jarrod two cups, so each morning, Jarrod shared coffee with Liza, and they talked. Jarrod found out pretty quickly that Liza was educated and articulate.

"My missus in Maryland taught me to read," she said. "People didn't have a lot of slaves in that part of the country, and a lot of us were house servants. They didn't want their servants to be too stupid. So as soon as I got there, I started having lessons every day."

Jarrod smiled. "How did you like it?"

Liza smiled shyly. "It was something different, that's for sure. I learned fast, and they taught me my sums, too. They had a little tavern and when I was fourteen or so, they started me keeping the till there. The local men were kind of surprised and kept trying to cheat me, but I always caught them and made them pay up. Kinda turned into a game for some of them, see if we can fool Liza. They never did."

Jarrod chuckled. "All I really remember of Sharpsburg is rolling through town in an ambulance. I got an arm wound in the north part of the battlefield and after the battle, they took me to a field hospital down on the southwest side of town."

"Big farmhouse?"

"Very big. Both Union and Confederate wounded there."

"That would be the Grove Farm. Massa sent me to help out there after the rebel army left and things got quiet. Maybe I saw you there."

"Maybe," Jarrod said, "but I wasn't there more than three days. They sent me to Washington and I was stationed there for quite a while. When did your master set you free?"

"The tavern was damaged," Liza remembered. "The house, too. Massa kept me on, but it was tough on him to rebuild, so in 1863, after emancipation for the rebel states, he gave me my papers and turned me loose. I wasn't a little girl anymore then, so he thought I'd be all right. I went up into Pennsylvania and found work up there as a free person, then bit by bit I came down into New Orleans. That's where I met Miss Julia. She's been good to me."

Jarrod didn't know if Liza knew Julia had been a Confederate spy during the war, so he didn't mention it. "I met her in Washington during my time there."

Liza smiled. "She told me a little bit about that when she figured out your Silas might be my papa, but she didn't say a whole lot."

Jarrod struggled with what to say. He ended up just saying, "She visited Stockton a couple years ago, but that was as a performer. We were never more than friends."

Jarrod could tell by the look in Liza's eyes that she knew it was more than that at some point, and he wondered what Julia had said to her, but they didn't talk anymore about Julia for now. Jarrod refilled his and Liza's coffee cups.

"Tell me more about Silas," Liza said. "How did he come to work for you?"

"He came out west after he was set free, before emancipation," Jarrod said. "My father met him – somewhere, I really don't know where. I was only about nine or ten at the time. The ranch was getting bigger, and my father brought Silas home to help at the house with my brother and me."

"But your papa has died."

"Many years ago now. My mother is still living with us. My younger brother Nick runs the ranch with our brother Heath. Our sister lives with us but is getting married soon. Our youngest brother is a doctor in Baltimore. Silas keeps us all in order."

"He was lucky to have found people who cared about him. I can't imagine anybody going to all the trouble you've gone to just to see if somebody might be his daughter."

Jarrod smiled. "Silas is a fine man. I'd do anything for him." Jarrod thought back on his days as a young teenager, when he was a bit rambunctious because his father was away and he thought he could get away with it. His mother was the disciplinarian. Silas always took time to explain why she acted the way she did. Silas helped Jarrod to understand a lot about human nature, knowledge that had served him well over the years.

"Mr. Barkley," Liza said, "what happens if he's not my father?"

Jarrod took a deep breath. "Well, I suppose we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, but if you want to go back to work with Julia for any reason at all, I'll escort you back to her, wherever she is."

"And if he is my father, and I want to stay with him? What then?"

"Well, that's another bridge to cross, but if you want to stay, we'll hire you on or find you a job in Stockton if you'd rather do that."

"Are there a lot of negroes in Stockton?"

"I wouldn't say a lot, but there is a small negro community, a small negro church. Liza, whatever happens, you won't be cast adrift. I know that packing up and coming west with me is a huge change for you. I know it's frightening."

Liza finished her coffee. "But I couldn't pass up the chance to find out if Silas is my father. It's been such a long time."

When she started to cry, Jarrod reached for her hand and took it. The movement surprised her, and she looked from his hand to his eyes. My goodness, such kind blue eyes.

"You have his eyes," Jarrod said, as if he knew she was thinking about his. "They're soft and kind, and when you're happy they light up like Silas's do. For both of you, I hope he is your father, and I strongly suspect that he is."

Liza burst into a smile, and her eyes lit up, just like Silas's did.

XXXXXXX

Over the course of the trip to Stockton, Jarrod learned a lot about Liza, and he told her a lot about the ranch and Silas's place in it. Liza told him many things about Julia, about how she'd been traveling and performing, how she wished Julia could have found a good man to take care of her but Julia didn't seem to be interested. It seemed there might still be someone in her heart from long ago.

Jarrod didn't let Liza dwell on that for too long. He knew who that someone in Julia's heart was. He even suspected, from the look in her dark eyes, that Liza knew who that someone was, too. He wondered if she wanted a sweet reunion for him and Julia, just as much as she wanted a sweet reunion for herself and Silas.

But that could never be, never. Jarrod drew Liza off that subject whenever it came up. There were still so many other things to talk about that by the time they were on the northbound train to Stockton and less than a day out, they both felt as if they had known each other for years.

Jarrod watched Liza become more excited, and perhaps more apprehensive, as they came slowly into Stockton. He became almost as nervous, even though by now he knew Liza was Silas's daughter. She had so many of his mannerisms – like the way he clasped his hands together when he was excited. Jarrod was certain who she was, and as the train pulled to a stop and he helped her down to the platform, he knew he was bringing her home.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The day finally came. Silas was so nervous he was shaking, non-stop. He watched Heath take off in the surrey for town, and he began to shake even more. When Heath came back, Jarrod and Liza would be with him. His Liza. He knew she was his Liza, even without seeing her. He just knew it.

Victoria and Audra were nearly as nervous. Because Silas was shaking so much, they made him sit down in the kitchen while they did the dishes. Silas was completely embarrassed, but Victoria put him at ease. "If it were Audra coming in today, and I hadn't seen her since she was a little girl, I'd be shaking far more than you are, Silas."

"Besides, we're excited, too," Audra said. "I've put some fresh flowers in the guest room for her."

"Thank you, Miss Audra," Silas said, and he looked out the back window from where he sat.

Victoria and Audra smiled at each other. Victoria hoped and prayed that Silas wasn't going to be disappointed. She wanted every good thing to happen for him today. She wanted this woman to be his daughter. He deserved it.

Nick came in while they were doing the dishes. "Well, well," he said and smiled at Silas. "Do you actually trust these ladies not to drop our good dishes, Silas?"

"You best behave yourself, or we'll make YOU do them," Victoria said.

Nick smiled. "I just came in to let you know the surrey just came over the ridge. They'll be here in a few minutes."

"Oh," Silas blurted and stood up.

Nick took him by the shoulders. "Now, you just take it easy, old friend. She's just a woman."

Silas said, "I don't think I can do any better than this, Mr. Nick."

"Silas," Victoria said, "do you want some privacy with her when she comes in?"

"Oh, I don't think so," Silas said. "Maybe later. Right now I might need somebody to catch me if I faint dead away."

Nick stayed close to Silas as they all made their way to the foyer. It still took a couple minutes before they heard the surrey pull up, and then the door opened, and then Jarrod led Liza in.

And everything stopped, as if time itself stopped. No one spoke as Silas stood staring at Liza, and she stared back at him. And maybe time did stop, because suddenly Silas saw the little girl he used to swing in the air to make her laugh, and Liza saw the young father who used to give her kisses when no one in the house was looking.

They knew each other instantly, and both burst into tears. They fell into each other's arms without a word.

Audra had to turn away, her tears overcoming her before she could even think about it. Victoria's eyes flooded, too, but she stayed near Silas, in case he needed her. But it was soon clear he didn't.

Silas and Liza pulled back from each other, both smiling and full of tears. "I'd know you anywhere, Papa," Liza said.

"And I'd know you, my Liza, my Liza," Silas said.

"Would you like a little privacy?" Jarrod asked quietly.

Both Silas and Liza shook their heads. "There's time for that later," Silas said, wiping the tears off Liza's face, and he turned toward the Barkleys, including Heath who was coming in the door with the baggage. "This is my Liza," he said. "Liza, this is Mrs. Barkley, and Miss Audra, and Mr. Nick. This is my Liza. This is my Liza."

XXXXXX

When Jarrod saw his mother taking a peek out the window of the back door to see Silas and his daughter in the swing on the back porch, he couldn't help sneaking up on her and clearing his throat. She jumped a little.

"Can't help yourself, can you?" he asked.

Victoria shook her head. "I've been waiting for a day like this for more than twenty-five years, Jarrod," she said. "I never thought I'd see it."

Jarrod took a look out the window too. "It's rather amazing how much they look alike, isn't it? I knew she was Silas's daughter the moment I saw her."

"While you were gone, we talked a lot about whether we'd ask Liza to stay, if she wanted to," Victoria said. "Nick said you'd mentioned it."

"What did you decide?"

"That we'd hire her, if she was interested. Silas could use the help, and we could, too."

"It wouldn't be as glamorous as working as the dresser for a woman in show business, but I think Liza might be open to the prospect."

"How did your visit with Julia Saxon go?"

Jarrod hesitated to answer, looking for the right words.

Knowing that she hadn't asked that question when Julia was in Stockton, and he had never volunteered anything, Victoria said, "I'm sorry. It's not my place to pry."

"Thank you, Mother," Jarrod said. "But you probably already know the answer. Things were cordial, a bit warmer than when she was here, but that's all. They'll never be any different than that."

Victoria left him alone about it then. Instead, she remembered the day her oldest came back from the war, after being gone for more than four years. It was certainly different from Silas finding Liza, after all these years of believing he never would see her again. Still, it was a day Victoria remembered, her own tears flowing for a son she sent off to fight, never knowing if she'd see him again. When he left, she had never let him see those tears – his leaving had angered his father so much that Victoria had kept her tears to herself. There were plenty of tears when he came home, though, and now, abruptly, she embraced him.

"What's this about?" Jarrod asked with a laugh.

"About being grateful," Victoria said. "And about thanking you for going to get Liza and bringing her back to Silas."

Jarrod understood the depth of what she was feeling. "It was my pleasure, Mother. Nothing has made me happier."

Nick came in to join them, saying, "Two sets of spying eyes, huh?"

"Just being happy, Nick," Victoria said. "Very happy for them. Very happy we could give Silas this."

"Well, I'll make you happier," he said. "I had a little talk with Liza, told her about our idea that she stay here to help Silas, be here when he grows older and can't keep up anymore. I told her we would never be turning him out and he was here as long as he wanted to be here, and we'd be very pleased if she'd consider staying, helping him, helping us to take care of him when the time came and staying with us for as long as she wants to."

"What did she say?" Jarrod asked.

"She said she'd be pleased."

Jarrod smiled and gave his brother a slap on the arm.

Victoria said, "We'll need to get a permanent room ready for her."

"We'll get around to that," Nick said. "But for the next few days, I think maybe we'll give Silas a bit more time off than usual. Let him get to know his daughter again."

Jarrod said, "And I'll get a letter off to Julia Saxon, to let her know Liza will be staying with us."

"And to thank her for finding her," Nick said.

Jarrod knew that was a big step for Nick, to thank Julia Saxon for anything. He gave his brother another slap on the arm.

XXXXXXX

"I think they're watching us," Liza said.

Silas laughed. "Don't you worry about that. They just like seeing you here with me."

"They seem so nice. How long have you lived here, Papa?"

"Oh, my, twenty-five years or so, I'd say. I came out here after massa gave me my papers and sent me on my way."

"He gave you your papers? He didn't sell you?"

"I had a broken leg. Nobody would buy me. Massa just cut me loose, but at least he gave me my papers."

Liza snuggled against her father, and wondered whether she should ask what she wanted to ask. But she did. She had to know. "Papa, what happened to Mama and Johnny and Caleb?"

Silas sighed, remembering them. "Massa sold them after he sold you. I never did know where they went. Best not to think on that, Liza. I just pray every morning and every night that they come to be as happy as me, and that the Good Lord look over them. Just like I always prayed for you."

"I prayed for them and for you, too, Papa. Every morning and every night no matter where I was."

"Have you been happy working for Miss Julia?"

"Yes, she's been very good to me, but – "

"But what?" Silas asked.

"Do you like it here, Papa?" Liza asked.

"Oh, yes, I like it here a lot. This is a good family. They always been good to me. Like Mr. Jarrod going to find you and bring you to me. Do you think Massa would have done that for me?"

"No," Liza said.

"Mr. Jarrod did it without even thinking about it twice. He got that letter from Miss Julia one day and he was on the train the next." Silas grew misty-eyed. "This is one fine family, Liza. I'm one lucky free man to be working for them, yes, I am."

Liza smiled and looked into her father's happy face. "Papa?"

He looked at her. "Hm?"

"What would you say if I told you they asked me to stay and take a job working for them, too?"

Silas straightened up, anxious.

Liza smiled more. "I told them I would stay."

Silas laughed out loud and hugged Liza to him. "Oh, thank the Lord, I got my baby with me again for the rest of my life!"

Liza laughed and hugged him back.

Inside, Victoria was the last to come away from the back door window. She left the kitchen with their laughter ringing in her ears. It was sweet, sweet music.

The End


End file.
